Spill the Tea with Tashi #9

SPILL THE TEA WITH TASHI | COLUMN | ADVICE | TANGATA WHENUA / LOCAL Written by Tashi Donnelly (she/her) | @tashi_rd | Contributing Writer

Q: 20 he/him

I like someone, but how do I know if he likes me back? I’m too nervous to say anything or do anything more bold than a couple of flirtatious remarks here and there. I also don’t want to clue him in that I like him, because we have to see each other until the end of the semester, and I don’t want to make things awkward.

A: Ah… the age-old dilemma of requited or unrequited love. Before you break your heart with your own fantasies about this maybe-romance, I’ll give you some of my flirting advice. 

I think there are a few handy clues, and even if these don’t tell you definitively whether someone is crushing back, they could give you the confidence to up your flirting throttle.

The first thing I would try to pick up on is if he mirrors your energy. When you make light, flirty comments or jokes, does he respond with someone equally playful? If so, that’s a good sign they’re into your vibe. 

Does he initiate conversations or prolong them? If you’re having a chat, and he seems to want to keep it going even when you could have walked away, that could be a good sign that he enjoys your company, and possibly wants to enjoy it even more. 

If you’re at a level where you have a small amount of physical proximity to your crush, consider a few things. Does he sit near you, lean in when talking, or not back away if you lightly touch his arm or shoulder? Comfort with closeness is a green-ish flag!

How is the conversation between you generally? If he’s smiling and seems genuinely engaged with what you’re saying, laughs at your jokes, that could be a good sign. Or if he remembers little things you’ve said in passing. People who like you tend to collect random facts about you like little trinkets. 

Now, all that being said, everyone’s communication is a little different. In an age of pseudo-body-language-science, it’s important to remember that you can never really know what’s going on in someone's head unless they tell you. Which, frequently, and unfortunately, does require asking. 

The best thing you can do if you can’t bear revealing your cards just yet is to focus on becoming great friends. Invite him out to a solo hang and see how the vibes are when you’re in a date-like situation. Remember the little things he tells you about himself, remember his favourite drinks/snacks and surprise him with a little gift sometimes. These things will show him you’re interested in being closer, but won’t give the full game away.

I would like to add that there is no shame in confessing a crush to someone. Although I understand your fear of making things awkward, I’ve been in many, MANY such situations in my time, and the thing is, awkwardness can’t kill you. It can barely deal damage. I once went on a 4-day trip with a friend who (on the first day) made a respectful move on me. After an extremely awkward rejection, we continued on with our trip, and we’re still great friends to this day. 

Being rejected can feel like absolute shit, but wouldn’t you rather be crushing on someone who’s crushing on you back? Just something to consider.

But really - get your daisy out and start plucking some petals, because your guess is about as good as mine. 

Q: 20 She/They

Hi Tashi! Okay, so I came out as bi last year. Yay, right? And I am happy about it, I don’t regret it or anything, but now I feel like I’ve accidentally entered some kind of queer Olympics where everyone’s silently judging my every move. 

Like, if I hook up with a guy, suddenly it’s like I’ve been “claimed by the straights” or I’m just a “confused girl in her experimental era” (for saying I’m bi then hooking up with guys). And then if I’m into a girl, I feel this pressure to prove I’m queer enough. Like I have to look the part, talk the part, follow the right people on Instagram or something? It’s exhausting. I literally came out so I could be more myself, and now I feel more performative than ever. I don’t even like writing this down, because I feel like people are going to think I’m being mean to this or that group. 

How can I just “be” without overthinking it all the time??

A: Firstly, congratulations! It’s an amazing feeling to be able to speak freely about your experience, and I’m so glad you’ve been able to embrace your identity! 

Alas, I, too, struggle with being bi and not being taken seriously by either the gays or the straights. I’m not sure how much we can do about wider society, but I’ll share some of the advice that has helped me over the years. 

I’ve been on the receiving end of biphobic noise since I came out. My mum laughed when I told her I was going on my first date with a woman, “But you’re not gay!” she exclaimed. No, mum, I guess I’m not. I’m bisexual. 

While having lunch with my grandad in an adorable Castle Combe pub last year, he hit me with his latest piece of wisdom, “Bi people don’t exist. They’re just greedy and haven't made up their mind yet”. Way to ruin a lovely holiday moment, gramps.

I’ve had ladies on apps lose interest in me when they find out I'm bi. I’ve had men imply they need to be vigilant about the threat of more competition. And of course, I’ve had a lot of men get excited about the idea of an FMF threesome. People say I’m faking it because I’m greedy for attention. Biphobia is exhausting to navigate. 

There is a long history of bi-erasure and biphobia from both sides of the fence. I’d highly recommend the YouTuber Verity Ritchie (@verilybitchie), who talks extensively on bi history and representation in media. Check her out! 

In terms of advice, one thing that helped me is addressing my internal dialogue. The issue with biphobia is that it is so prevalent that we tend to take on these negative judgments in our own heads. When I’m feeling insecure, I imagine I’m talking to a young bi person who’s struggling, and what I’d say to them is: “Challenge the negative stereotypes or misconceptions about bisexuality you may have absorbed. You are valid. Give Yourself Time. Be gentle with yourself. Your sexuality is yours to define.” 

The other piece of advice I’d like to impart is one about friends. Friendship should not feel like you’re competing in the Olympics. You shouldn’t have to work for approval from your support network. It took me until my mid-twenties to figure this out, so hopefully you can get a head start. People who claim there is a “right” way to be queer are not worth arguing with, and frankly, they’re likely bogged down by their own internalised homophobia in some way. 

The problem with the capitalistic world we live in is that everything can (and will) be commodified. This includes identity, which is fucked on so many levels, but it feeds into a wider sociological problem surrounding identity politics. When people cling to a commodified identity, you realise very quickly how shallow it is. If being gay means you have to wear the “right” clothes, follow the “right” influencers, or use the “right” slang, it rips the individual completely out of the equation. Your identity is yours to define, and if you want to own more beanies than necessary, get a pixie cut, and get really into film photography to show off your bisexuality, all the more power to you. But if that’s just not you, that doesn’t make you less bi. 

If there is a queer Olympics, you’re allowed to skip the training and just watch from the sidelines with an iced coffee. Your life isn't a spectator sport. You get to decide the pace, the uniform, and whether you even want to compete. 

So to finish off, let your bisexuality be something that lives in you, not something you have to prove to others. Over time, the noise around what’s “queer enough” fades, and the people who matter will see you, really see you, without you having to perform for it. That’s the freedom you came out for.